


Joe Trohman: Nightmare Extraordinaire

by katsukis



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M, Vandays, Vandays!FOB
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 10:53:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2307062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katsukis/pseuds/katsukis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I h-had a nightmare Joe, it was just- way too fucking r-real.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Joe Trohman: Nightmare Extraordinaire

**Author's Note:**

> i procrastinated. a lot.
> 
> apologies for mistakes!!

The Band's early for today's venue, an entire day early, so that means everyone can find some spot in the van to curl up tonight and get some sleep before starting the day refreshed and ready for their set tonight.

Pete's passed out in the driver's seat, his feet propped on the dashboard and letting out soft snores while Andy is in practically the same position, with his feet set up on the dashboard as well and a ragged old blanket covering his small frame.

Joe and Patrick are snoozing away, oddly close to each other because of the amount of equipment piled up against the backdoor along with laundry that is days, even weeks old.

Patrick is rolling around harshly, whimpering in his sleep while Joe is having his own peaceful slumber, a good two or three feet away from the flailing body of their singer.

It's unlucky for him, since he's pretty much the only light sleeper in the band, so nobody is bolting up from their comfortable position to help him.

He shoots up from the sleeping bag, shoulder's shaking and choking out sobs as his hands cover his mouth. Patrick doesn't want to be the person that wakes everyone up, having them yell at him for ruining their sleep and all of them passing out in the middle of their set.

Patrick's chest hurts from breathing so hard, and he's about to scream, scream for someone, absolutely anyone.

He rolls over, being unable to control his emotions and his body, pressing his hands against Joe's side and shaking him, hoping that he'll wake up and not tell him to fuck off.

“J-Joe.” He chokes out, “Joe please, please wake up.”

The guitarist is groaning, rolling over to see whoever woke him from his wonderful sleep.

“Patrick?” He manages to ask, rubbing his eyes from sleep, “What? Is the car on fire?”

“I uh-” He tries to regulate his breathing, but the tears are coming back, pricking at his eyes and making his body shiver with every breath. “I h-had a nightmare Joe, it was just- way too fucking r-real.” He managed.

Joe just shakes his head, and motions Patrick to crawl over into his arms. Patrick was small, Joe decided, he's small in comparison to Joe, who's the same age as the kid crying is him embrace.

“Patrick.” He whispers, “It's alright, it's just a dream, you're okay.” Joe's face is pressed against the singer's soft hair, and he can hear his sobs slowly becoming in audible as the guitarist tightens his grasp around the shaking body.

It's probably around 3 AM, Joe wonders, 3 AM and he's holding someone who just woke up from a nightmare and is wondering why their body fits oh so perfectly with his while the kids face is buried in his shirt clad chest and not trying to calm him down.  
The two lie there, Joe taking in deep breaths and rubbing the smaller's back, until Patrick has finally calmed down with Joe's arm thrown over his hip, and Patrick's hands pressed against Joe's chest, bunching up the shirt in his fists.

“I'm scared.” Patrick sighs, “Too scared to sleep.”

“D'you wanna play a game or something?” Joe murmurs, and he feels Patrick nod into his chest. 

“Where are the cards?” Patrick sits up from his warm position and is balancing on two arms, looking around in the dimly lit back of the van. 

“Either up front with them or,” He stretches out like a cat, causing his bare foot to hit one of the cymbals, and it comes falling off of the mound of equipment. “Shit. Fucking god damn it.” 

Patrick giggles at Joe's struggle to move, but he just scoffs as they somehow managed to not wake up Pete and Andy and all they did was mumble in their sleep.

They shuffled around for a minute or so, trying to find the playing cards. 

“I think these are it!” Joe whisper-shouts and slides something across the floor of the van, and there's a small thud when it hits Patrick's knee.

They set up a makeshift playing area on their sleeping bags, with some flashlights expertly duct taped on the top of the headrests of the driver and passenger's seats for a light source.

“Thanks, by the way.” Patrick murmured and Joe just smiled and dealt the cards.

-

“Joe, Patrick, c'mon you guys gotta get up, we have sound check in a few.” Pete's shaking them awake, and they open their eyes with a groan. “Why are you guys covered in cards?”

“I just-” Joe started and then they busted out laughing at their own little joke.

“Well whatever.” Andy rolled his eyes, and jumped out the backdoors of the van, “Get ready, and get inside we got to get this show on the road.”

There's a slam of the doors and Patrick and Joe are left alone, covered in cards, smelling like sweat and their cheeks bright red.

“Can't believe I made you do that.” Patrick groaned, and hid his face in his hands, trying to cover his blush. 

“I'd stay up every night for you.” Joe just mentally slapped himself, scolding and saying, you don't like your best friend, joe. 

The singer just started giggling and grabbing the guitarist's hands, interlocking their fingers.

“But thank you.” He smiled and moved forward to press a kiss to Joe's cheek.


End file.
